That's My Girl
by Greenstuff
Summary: Mary and Marshall take on a new witness who provess to be more trouble than they could have expected. Starts where Let's Get is Ahn leaves off.
1. Chapter 1

**That's My Girl**

_Since 1970, the Federal Witness Protection Program has relocated thousands of witnesses, some criminal, some not, to neighborhoods all across the country. Every one of those individuals shares a unique attribute, distinguishing them from the rest of the general population. And that is, somebody wants them dead._

***

**Chapter 1 **

_Two months ago_

_Normal, Illinois _

Marvin glared savagely at the dull gray interior of his cubicle. The computer to his left beeped innocuously, the sound overshadowed by the ticking of his watch. By this point in his shift – with less than fifteen minutes to go – his world narrowed to allow no greater distraction than the steady tick-tick-tick of his Timex.

This job was a dead end one. Too poor to go to college, Marvin had taken a job with the company straight off his grade twelve year. At first it had been tolerable. The hours were standard, Monday through Friday, eight to four; the pay was excellent, with starting wage at 13 dollars an hour; and his bosses were fair, which was more than he could have said about the day job he had taken as a high school senior.

The ticking of the watch hitched once, the end of an hour. Marvin reached to hit the off switch on his computer monitor, not bothering to stop the work he had been skillfully ignoring since his three o'clock coffee. His coat in hand he stood and exited the quiet, orderly hell he existed in for forty hours every week, for the past twenty years.

The parking lot was full to near capacity and Marvin found himself dodging a car, a woman with a small toddler and an abandoned shopping cart before arriving at his pale silver pick-up. The same car he had bought with this job's first paycheck – back when he thought the money pit was bottomless.

The drive home was short and silent. Marvin disliked music and abhorred talk-shows. At home he pulled into the driveway with one easy arch and came to a stop beside a light blue sedan. Kathy was there again.

Kathy, Marvin's girlfriend, worked in Real Estate. She had managed only the first two years of business school before her poor attendance and a rumor of her less-than-professional relationship with the dean of admissions had driven her out. A few months after being kicked out of school she latched onto Marvin.

The front door was opened just as Marvin was climbing out of his car. He could see Kathy, standing on the stoop talking to Patty. He smiled. She had always claimed to be lonely when he was at work. Kathy had her own place on the other side of town, but no one who knew the couple would have believed it. She visited only often enough to remind the spiders that the place was indeed not their own.

Marvin passed Patty on the steps and grinned his hello.

"You're home early." Kathy observed blandly from her place lounging on the leather sofa he had worked overtime for a month to buy.

"I'm home exactly when I always am," he said, calmly hanging up his briefcase and jacket.

"Well then. My clock must be slow." She smiled at him.

He smiled back.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Bandy on the rocks." He said, sinking into a chair.

"Of course," she turned an unsuspecting back and went to the bar to pour him his usual après work beverage.

Marvin accepted the drink. The rich alcohol caressed his throat and he sighed with contentment. There was only one feeling in the world that could rival that of his first drink after work.

"So, you had a late night last night. Did you and the guys have fun?" Kathy's voice held an edge of steel.

Marvin swirled the drink and responded blandly, "I wasn't with the guys, as you well know."

"Oh lord Marvin,' Kathy sank her head into her hands, "not again. You promised me not again."

"I lied." The second swig of brandy sizzled its way to his navel.

"Where is she? What did you do to her?"

"She's fine." He sent a sharp, suspicious gaze in her direction, "Who have you told?"

"N-no one. God Marvin, I'm not – I wouldn't—"

"I know. And even if you did, it wouldn't do any good."

"I wouldn't be so sure; you're bound to get caught one day. When will you stop this madness?"

"I won't get caught. There's no evidence. All they would have is your testimony, and we all know how much good that would do." He smirked, standing to hover menacingly over her, "I've let you have a normal life so far Kath, do you really want to risk it?"

Kathy stared at him, her mind numb with fear. "You're sick!"

"They aren't like us Kath. They're dirty. Foul." His voice increased in volume, "They deserve it."

"No one deserves that."

Marvin leaned down until his nose was inches from her. His tone, when he spoke, oozed malice, "They practically beg for it. Much like you did once upon a time."

"They're CHILDREN Marvin. You sick fuck!" Kathy's eyes were shining with tears as she looked up at him, her chin trembling with the implications of what she had just said.

Fury so strong it was palpable coursed through Marvin. He reached out a hand and slapped her hard across one cheek, leaving a white imprint of his palm. "Children are innocent," Marvin said, "these girls are far from innocent."

"Once you're through with them." Kathy muttered bitterly. Regard for her own safety taking a momentary back-seat to her anger. She knew Marvin was a dangerous man, a rapist and murderer. A sociopath, or at least as close to one as a living breathing human being could be and she loathed him for it, but she had no way out.

Marvin slapped her again for her protestation. Then, his hands gripping the arms of the chair he held her in place and whispered a final threat, "If you ever contradict me again you'll end up just like they are. No one ever lacks the room for one more toy."

***

_Present day_

_Albuquerque, New Mexico_

Marshall left the impromptu engagement party as Stan was popping the cork on the second bottle of champagne. Mary watched his tall, upright frame disappear through the security doors with a leaden feeling of dread in her stomach.

He hadn't spoken a word to her since his toast a half hour earlier. He'd spoken to Stan, joked with Eleanor, and spouted off random facts like a living encyclopedia, but he wouldn't even _look_ at her. She'd never realized how much she relied on his sly smile and obnoxious remarks to carry her through social situations like this until they were suddenly gone – not actually gone, just never sent in her direction. And the worst part? It was all her fault.

_I should have told him._

It was the thousandth time the thought had rolled through her mind that day, but no matter how often or vehemently she thought it the weeks she had lied to her best friend refused to rewind. There was no going back. She'd ruined everything.

Eleanor's laughter cut into her maudlin thoughts. Something Stan had said had the other woman in stitches, her cheeks bright with pleased embarrassment. A sight that would normally have led to several minutes of smug bantering between her and Marshall, without him there to laugh at them there wasn't even a point in being snide. She downed her glass of champagne, said her goodbyes and made her way to the parking lot.

It wasn't until she pulled into her driveway that she remembered. Today was moving day. When she walked through the door to her home it wouldn't just be Brandi and Jinx to contend with, Raph would be there. From today onwards Raph would always be there.

She shut the car door with much more force than was necessary. It didn't help.

She paused on the front porch and slipped on the ring that had caused such ruckus that day. It didn't even suit her. Sure it was beautiful, probably cost a bundle and a half to buy, but it wasn't her. As far as she was concerned, it had looked better on Marshall's hand than it ever would on hers. Not that she believed any US Marshal should ever be seen wearing a shiny lump of diamond.

An engagement ring invited conversation. Personal conversation. With complete strangers. People see an engagement ring sparkling in the sunlight and suddenly they're your long lost best friend wanting every little detail that led to the all important engagement ring being placed on your finger. What Marshall in their own mind would willingly wear a sign that invited invasions to her privacy at every turn?

She opened the door and glared briefly at the back of Raph 's head as he sat on her living room couch watching baseball on her television.

He hit the mute button and turned to greet her, a welcoming smile on his handsome face. "You're home late."

She resisted the urge to throw something at him. "Work." She snarled. "I have an early day tomorrow. Goodnight."

Ignoring the slightly hurt look on his face she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door.

***

The next morning Mary rose before the sun and was at the office by seven in hopes she could catch Marshall before Stan or Eleanor arrived. She knew he liked to come in early to get some of his paperwork out of the way before the office became a center for chaos with the arrival of the rest of the WitSec team.

She usually rolled in some time around nine, preferring to stay late when there was extra work to be done rather than cheating herself out of much needed sleep to get there early, unless it was one of those not-so-rare occasions when she spent the entire night at the office.

By eight o'clock the stillness was driving her crazy. She'd consumed three cups of coffee, just to pass the time, and caught up on the worst of the paperwork mound on her desk. She hadn't snarled at anyone, shot a spit wad or taken a break to do more than refill her coffee cup in over an hour.

At eight thirty Marshall breezed into the office, coffee in hand. "What, you sleep here?" He asked, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Nope. Just thought I'd get an early start."

"Jinx or Brandi?"

_Raph _ her mind supplied unbidden. She cut a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, he wasn't looking at her, but there was a stiffness in his posture that told her he was listening very closely. She sighed, "Neither, just got behind with all the excitement lately."

"Uuh-huh." He sounded like his old self for a moment. Full of detached skepticism tinged with the smallest amount of amusement.

She resisted the urge to throw something at his head, settling for a wry half-smile. "I should have told you."She said after a few moment of silence.

"Yeah, you should have."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't mention it." He hoped she would take him at his word. He couldn't talk about it, and he certainly didn't want to hear her talking about it. If she asked him to help he would, that was the job, but until then he planned to pretend the hellish day before had been a figment of his imagination.

Mary nodded silently, perfectly content to let the events of the previous day alone.

And that was that. Twenty minutes later Stan arrived with a new intake case file, Eleanor and Mary sparred and everything progressed as normal. Well… almost normal.

***

"Your witness is on her way in," Stan announced, stepping out of his office a few hours later. "FBI just called to let us know her flight was on time and they're bringing her straight here."

"Thank you Stan." Marshall replied, not looking up from the file spread before him. The new intake would be Mary's witness, but since he did a large share of her paperwork he wanted to familiarize himself with the wit's details before she arrived.

Her name was Kathy Fraiser, now Kathy Ford. A woman who had the misfortune of entering a relationship with a man who got his jollies kidnapping and raping children before killing them and chopping up their remains. According to the FBI report Kathy had, in essence, lived with Marvin Shore for the last six months. The last three of these months were spent in fear for her life after she found out what it was her boyfriend was doing during the many evenings she'd assumed he was out drinking at a bar with the guys. She had finally gone to the FBI when he threatened to use her like he'd used the others. Unfortunately for Kathy, though her testimony was useful for getting warrants and perhaps necessary to help tie Marvin to any bodies they might find, it was not enough for them to arrest and hold Marvin – thus Kathy became the newest WitSec witness for the Albuquerque office.

Mary looked up from her copy of Kathy's file, "This should be interesting. Sure you don't want her?" Under most circumstances Mary would take any case they could throw at her – even an eight year old entering the program solo – but she had no desire to cater to the wants of a serial rapist and murderer's ex-girlfriend.

"She's all yours." Marshall grinned smugly.

Mary was saved the trouble of a smart ass remark by the arrival of her witness. Shorter than Mary by several inches, Kathy had light mousy brown hair and dark bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. Despite herself, Mary felt a pang of pity as she gathered the file and memorandum of understanding and followed her newest witness into the meeting room, Marshall a few feet behind her.

"I'm Marshal Mary Sheppard, this is my partner, Marshal Marshall Miller," Mary took a seat across from the witness, "and this is your Memorandum of Understanding."

The reading of the intensely thick legalese went as quickly as could be expected. Kathy had very few questions and Mary didn't linger on any of the details. When they reached the end she pushed the thick document across the table for Kathy to sign. "Do you have any questions about what I've just read?"

Kathy seemed to shrink into her seat, eyes nervously darting from Mary to Marshall and back again. When she finally spoke her voice was so soft Mary leaned in a little to hear it, "I – I was a real estate agent. My p-picture was everywhere. Wh-what am I s-supposed to d-do now?"

"You won't be able to work as a real estate agent any longer," Mary replied, matter of factly, like this should have been obvious. "It's too dangerous to have your picture passed around like that. If you like sales I'm sure you can find a job in retail."

Kathy nodded. "Ok."

Marshall and Mary exchanged skeptical looks, most wits reacted to the news that they would have to give up their former careers for good with indignation at the very least – more often with outright fury. Mary shrugged. It was definitely more pleasant this way.

There was a knock at the door, Mary excused them and she and Marshall stepped out to join Stan in the hall. "What's going on Chief?"

"Just got off the phone with the DA, they want a psych eval on your witness. It's one of the conditions of her enrollment in the program."

Mary groaned, "Let me guess –"

The rest of her sentence was cut off abruptly when Shelly stepped into the office. "Chief, Mary, Marshall," She smiled.

"Let's get this over with." Mary turned and led the way back into the room. "Kathy, this is Shelly, she's going to talk with you and then we'll take you to see your new home ok?"

Marshall watched Shelly as she took the empty chair beside Kathy and smiled serenely at the woman. He couldn't decide which was stranger, that he had gone on a date – ok, more like half a date – with this woman, or that despite the many things they had in common, he was relieved she wouldn't be asking him out again anytime soon.

He'd dated women who were perfect for him. Smart women, sensitive women, women who wanted him for who they thought he was. But they all shared a fatal flaw. They weren't her. He'd never admitted it to himself, always finding something else to place the blame on - they were fake, they were too adventurous, they were needy – but reality boiled down to one painfully simple reason none of his relationships in the last five years had panned out: they were not Mary.

His infuriating, domineering, secretive, impulsive, sexy partner. She was the reason he'd spent the last half decade riding one cold wave of anxiety after another, why the job he'd loved became day after day of sweet torment. He wished he could hate her for it.

But he couldn't hate her and he couldn't leave her. He was stuck. And now she was leaving him. Leaving him alone, loving her, so she could marry a steroid pumping ex-baseball star who may or may not have slept with her sister Brandi. And he had no choice but to pretend he was happy for them. He was her keeper, that was his job and he'd promised her he wouldn't quit.

He shot a look at his partner and noted, with an infuriating bolt of hope, that even though they all knew about it now, she still wasn't wearing the engagement ring.

** *

By five Kathy was settled into her new apartment, a sack full of groceries on the counter, and Mary's promise to come check on her the next day.

Mary climbed into her car and headed for home. Halfway there she changed her mind. Eyes on the road, left hand on the steering wheel she fumbled for her mobile phone and hit speed dial one.

"That was fast." She could almost hear the smile in Marshall's familiar voice.

"What can I say? I'm efficient."

"Which is of course why you are calling me."

"I'm headed back to the office via the Starbucks drive through and thought you might want something. See this is why I don't bother being nice, no appreciation."

"Your treat?"

"In your dreams."

He snickered. "Yeah, grab me a half caf, triple cappuccino, heavy on the foam."

"Will do."

"And leave a tip this time will you?"

"Marshall, we've been over this. They aren't waiters, they pour coffee. The only tip they need is to get a better job."

"Rawr"

"See you in a few." Mary disconnected the phone and pulled a u-turn that sent her back in the direction of caffeinated goodness and the office. She told herself quite firmly that she wasn't avoiding home, just doing her job.

At eight thirty she had to admit that she was avoiding home, at least a little bit. Marshal was still there, staring with a furrowed brow at something on his computer screen, but Stan and Eleanor had left hours ago and she was entirely caught up on her backlog of paperwork for the first time she could remember. Before she could follow through on the thought that she really should go home, Marshall stood, stretched and pulled on his jacket.

"You sleeping here again?"

"Again?"

"Well since there was some pretty heavy celebrating last night and you were here before me I assumed you'd slept here. Wouldn't be the first time."

'Nope. Just got really behind this month. I'll head home in a while."

"Alright," he flashed her a quick smile, "Call if you need anything."

She nodded. He said this same thing every night, she'd never once taken him up on the offer, but the ritual was comforting. "Night Marshall."

As the clock rolled past nine, Mary finally gave in to the guilty voice reminding her that she hadn't seen or spoken to Raph since she'd snapped at him the night before. It wasn't his fault she was a territorial bitch.

Once again as she climbed from the car in her own driveway she paused for a moment to slip the flashy diamond ring onto the fourth finger on her left hand. She made a face at the shimmering diamonds, shook her head at her own idiocy and made her way into the house.

It was blissfully silent in her living room, the TV was off and for once there was no one sitting on the comfy end of the couch. In fact, there seemed to be no one home at all. "Hello?" she called out, her voice loud in the stillness.

When no one answered Mary had to fight off guilt again at the relief that flooded her entire being. She changed into sweats and a comfy t-shirt, grabbed a bottle of cool water from the fridge and plunked down in front of the TV. Five minutes later she was fast asleep.

***

Raphael arrived home after a night out with some of his old team mates to find Mary sound asleep on the couch, the TV playing infomercials, the remote held loosely in her hand. He smiled when he saw the diamonds glinting on her finger. He'd spent three month's salary on that ring, spent hours agonizing over which one to get and thought his choice was perfect. Mary was a difficult woman, but the fact that she wore the ring even now as she slept on the couch convinced him that she was as happy about their upcoming marriage as he was.

He wished he could forget the near-manic look in her eyes when she'd fished the ring out of his pocket and accepted his proposal. It was a look he didn't understand, didn't really want to understand. There was hope in it, desperation, fear and determination. It was the kind of look a man lost in the desert might give a mirage before he fell face first and found hat for the hundredth time there was no water, it was only sand. It was not the kind of look a man hopes to see in the eyes of his betrothed. It was not a look of love.

But Mary was a difficult woman. He had always known he couldn't expect typical reactions from her when it came to their relationship. He'd always been the one to make the first move, to push them into deeper intimacy, and she was always grateful after the fact. He knew this would be the same. She might hesitate, she had every right to hesitate, but in the end she would be happy.

Mary shifted in her sleep, tucking her head into the cushion and mumbling something incoherent. Her right hand rubbed irritably against her left pushing the ring off in the process. It landed with a thunk on floor. Mary shifted again, slipping her left hand under her cheek, sighed and was still.

Raphael picked up the ring with a chuckle and tucked it in his pocket. She would panic in the morning when it was gone he was sure, but that was a small price to pay for the fun of giving it back to her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

It took Mary a few moments to get her bearings when she awoke early the next morning. She registered that she was at home and then that she'd fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for her family to return home, feeling guilty. The couch was not designed for sleeping, her neck was stiff and she suspected there would be a bruise on her hip from where the wooden bar that supported the middle of the cushions was digging into her flesh. She rose to a sitting position and stretched both arms above her head. Her spine crackled as the muscles, bones and cartilage settled into their normal places.

She yawned. It had not been a restful night. Though the details of her dreams were already seeping away into the morning sunlight, the unsettling feeling of guilt and loss remained along with a vague idea of chasing someone who was always a few steps out of reach.

She made her way slowly, groggily down the hall and stepped into her bedroom. Raph was sleeping soundly, snoring a little, on the right side of the bed. She jumped a little and took an involuntary step backwards. Once again she had forgotten that he lived here now. She wondered when it would become normal to have a man in her bed in the morning, she hoped it was soon. She didn't like change or surprises and until she got used to this she would have to live with both. She considered very briefly the idea of going to work in her sweats and t-shirt, even with the drool stain on the shoulder, but dismissed this notion as insanity and cowardess.

By the time she'd showered, blown her long blonde locks dry and changed into something more befitting a US Marshal Raph was awake. "Good morning." He rumbled, running a hand through his short, sleep-mussed brown hair and giving her a half smile.

"Good morning." She dropped a quick kiss on his upturned face. "If you can get ready quickly I might let you make me breakfast."

In a matter of seconds Raphael was out of bed and slipping into a clean t-shirt. "Flapjacks?"

She grinned. "Isn't that what you're here for?"

"Apparently," he said, stopping in the doorway to kiss her again. His lips were soft, familiar and sweet, she fought off a memory from her dream - of other lips, hard and unforgiving pressed passionately against hers.

Her phone chirped and she pulled away from Raph with an apologetic smile.

"You get that, I'll be in the kitchen."

She nodded absently, the phone already pressed to her ear. "Hi Stan."

"Morning Mary. Just got off the phone with the DOJ, they want Kathy Fraser in Chicago tomorrow afternoon to do a line up. I need you in the office as soon as possible."

"Jesus Stan! She just got here yesterday!"

"Doesn't matter. DOJ wants this taken care of as quickly as possible, guess they don't have enough evidence to hold him without her ID."

"They had the man's address, what does she need to do a line up for?"

"No idea. Maybe he had an accomplice. Either way, you and Marshall are taking her tonight."

Mary sighed, "Yep. Alright. I'll call Marshall. Be there in half an hour."

"See you then."

She hung up the phone and glared at it for a second before hitting speed dial one.

"Did you know that today is the seventieth anniversary of the Nazi-Soviet Non-aggression Pact?"

"You have got to stop watching the History channel." She grumbled.

"Actually that was on my calendar this morning."

She shook her head, fighting an urge to laugh. "Listen, Stan just called. JOD wants Kathy Fraser in Chicago tomorrow for a line up—"

"A line up? I thought the guy was her ex-boyfriend."

"I know, Stan thinks it might be something to do with an accomplice."

"Let me guess, Red-eye tonight, be here as soon as possible."

"You got it."

"See you in 20."

"30. Raph is making flapjacks so unless ten minutes is going to get my witness killed I'm eating breakfast."

"OK."

Mary paused, waiting for the flippant remark about her eating habits. It never came and she felt ripped off. "Bye," she said, a bit of a bite to her tone, and disconnected the call.

Raph looked up expectantly when she entered the kitchen. The griddle was out and he was mixing the batter. He took in her serious expression and the smile died on his lips, "Let me guess: work emergency, can't talk about it but save you some breakfast because you'll be back as soon as possible."

Mary clenched her jaw in irritation, "No actually. I was going to say I have twenty minutes what can I do to help, but if you'd like I can go now."

"No, Mary…" Raph set down the bowl and took both of her hands in his, "I'm sorry. It's just... you're never here. I thought it would be better once I moved in but I think I've seen less of you in the last three days than I did before we were engaged."

"That's my life Raph. I can't always be home when I want to be."

"Right." His tone told her he didn't understand, not at all.

She fought the urge to scream. "Forget it," she snarled, "I'd better get going."

"What happened to 'I have 20 minutes'?"

"I don't want to fight about this." She said wearily.

"We wouldn't have to fight about this if you could just be honest with me."

Mary's eyes widened in hurt and shock. "Do you have any idea what I risked just by telling you what I do?"

"You gave me your job title, that's not a matter of national security."

"People's lives depend on my identity, my job, being a complete secret. You are the _only_ person I have _ever_ told what I do. It violates about a dozen different regulations, but I didn't want to lie to you." She was trembling with suppressed frustration.

They stared at each other for several moments. When it was clear that Raphael wouldn't speak Mary glanced over at the clock, it's been five minutes since she'd spoken to Marshall. She had to go.

"Look, I have to go. I'll be gone for the next couple of days. Not sure exactly how long for, but I should be home by Wednesday. We can talk then, ok?"

Raph 's eyes narrowed. "Where are you going?"

"You know I can't tell you that." She did her best to keep the irritation out of her voice, but failed.

"Fine. Whatever. See you Wednesday."

Fighting the urge to simultaneously shoot her fiancé and burst into tears Mary settled for slamming the door on her way out and aggressively tailgating her way to work. She never noticed the missing engagement ring.

***

Marshall was surprised to see Mary's Probe when he pulled his truck into the parking lot 15 minutes after he'd hung up the phone. The stormy expression on his face when he entered the office kept him from asking questions.

"Thanks for coming in." Stan said, emerging from his office with an armload of paperwork. "I tried to convince the DOJ to wait one more day so I we could all enjoy our day off."

Mary shrugged and shot Marshall an inquiring look, since when did anyone in the USMS expect to actually get their days off when scheduled? Wits and their pursuers had a funny habit of getting into trouble at the most inconvenient times possible.

"Here are your aliases and travel arrangements. The security detail will escort you to the airport and another will meet you on the ground. We're not sending a detail with you on the flights."

Mary nodded, taking the paperwork, "Shouldn't be a problem. I'll do a threat assessment, but I got the impression that it was just one guy after her – if he's in custody this should be easy."

Marshall shook his head, "FBI obviously thought this guy and any associates he had were enough of a threat to put her in WitSec."

Mary glared at him and tossed the heavy folder Stan had given her onto her desk.

"How about I run the risk assessment while you go let Kathy know she's just won herself an all expense paid trip to the Windy City?" Marshall asked, swiping the file and settling at his own desk.

"Thanks." She returned sarcastically. She couldn't imagine this conversation going well and the mood she was in she really did not have the patience to handle a witness freak-out.

"No problem." He answered, ignoring or oblivious to the sarcasm, she wasn't sure which.

She plucked the travel papers out of the folder and settled down to review them. No point in waking her witness up before nine on a Sunday, especially before she knew the details of their itinerary. It turned out to be amazingly straightforward for WitSec. Albuquerque to Houston to Denver and then on to Chicago. Three different private planes and less than half an hour between landing and departure at each stop. It was convoluted enough that no one was likely to guess that Kathy's original location as Albuquerque, while straight forward enough that they could get her to Chicago PD in under twelve hours. She'd seen worse, but she was still grateful that neither she nor Marshall were prone to airsickness.

By nine-thirty she had finished reading through the travel arrangements and briefed the security detail on the plan for that evening. It was time to go fill in her witness. Marshall waved a sassy goodbye as she grabbed her keys and headed for the door. He was on the phone with Chicago, so she settled for sticking out her tongue at his back when she really wanted to cuff him of the back of the head.

Kathy was awake when Mary knocked at her door. Judging from her haggard appearance and the rumpled blue suit Mary recognized from the day before she wouldn't have been surprised if Kathy hadn't slept at all.

"Inspector Sheppard."

"Morning Kathy. Can I come in?"

"Yes, of course." Kathy allowed the inspector to enter and led the way to the small living room with its sparse furnishings.

"I have some news," Mary began, watching her witness closely for any signs that she was going to react badly. To her surprise Kathy appeared stunned rather than angry. She did not speak until Mary finished outlining the basic plan for the next two days.

"So soon?"

"I'm afraid so. I know you haven't even had a chance to settle in yet, but the Department of Justice prefers to move quickly when they can, especially with protected witnesses."

"Yes, yes. Of course." Kathy looked down at the clenched hands in her lap for a moment. "I-I understand, I'm just… shocked. Th-they told me it would be months, maybe years before they had enough evidence." She shrugged. "I guess this is good?"

Mary shrugged. "Could be. " She lied smoothly. More than likely it would still be months before they had enough evidence to try Marvin. If they had the evidence they wouldn't need Kathy's statement to hold him. "Pack for three days, we'll be by to pick you up at two. Any questions before I go?"

"Will he be able to see me?"

Mary smiled compassionately, "No. We'll make sure of that."

"Ok." For the first time in days Kathy smiled. "See you later."

***

Marshall didn't look up when Mary reentered the office, a small bag with clothing and toiletries for the trip looped over her left arm, a drive-through tray with four cups of coffee in her right hand. "half caf, triple cap, heavy foam." She announced, setting one of the cups smack in the center of the paper work Mashall was reading so intently.

"Uuh.. Thanks." He said distractedly, moving the cup out of his line of vision.

Mary narrowed her eyes suspiciously, shrugged and proceeded to Stan's office where she deposited a triple macchiato for Stan and a London Fog for Eleanor.

"Really?" Eleanor asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's your day off too," Mary replied with a shrug. She turned to leave, calling back over her shoulder, "Three fifty each."

"Pure Evil." Eleanor replied even as Stan fumbled in his wallet and pulled out a stack of ones.

At her desk Mary spent a full ten minutes sipping a piping hot Americano and watching Marshall. He didn't look in her direction once. He did, however, polish off the coffee she'd brought before it had a chance to cool off, and placed three fifty on top of the empty cup. When she could bear the silence no longer, Mary spoke.

"Anything in the threat evaluation we need to be worried about tonight?"

"Nope."

"Any reason you won't look at me?"

He raised his head slowly, blue eyes locking into green, and raised one eyebrow. There was something different, she couldn't place her finger on it, but it was definitely not a good different. She was briefly glad they would be spending the next couple of days escorting a witness halfway across the country. It would force him to talk to her and with a low maintenance witness like Kathy there would be plenty of time for conversation. There were enough changes going on in her personal life, she couldn't handle the strangeness with her best friend on top of it all.

Marshall was trying to keep his expression neutral. He was doing his level best to be happy for her, to act normal. It was easy to do on the phone, when he could forget the little tell tale indented strip of lighter than normal skin where an engagement ring rested, but in person it was proving to be almost more than he could bear. The thought of spending the next to three days escorting her witness to and from Chicago made him nauseous. He'd said 'I love you' and watched her eyes become cautious and afraid, he'd wished for her happiness and watched the light in her eyes fade just a little, and then he'd gone home and drank an entire bottle of 23 year old, single malt Benriach and slept on the floor in a pathetic puddle.

The next morning he'd come into work only to find Mary already there, at least an hour earlier than normal, with an apology and larger than normal chip on her shoulder. Thankfully the new intake had taken most of the day, but he'd still felt a near physical pain whenever he looked her way. He wished he hadn't noticed the tan line, sure if he hadn't she would never have told him of the engagement, and just as certain that this was one fact he would gladly unlearn.

He wondered idly how her fiancé took the news of their upcoming trip. There were reasons that few marshals had long term relationships and most of them had to do with the secrecy required by the USMS. There were few people trusting enough to stay in a relationship with a person who could disappear for days at a time and not be able to account for their whereabouts when they returned. For Mary's sake he hoped Raphael was one of the few, though selfishly he would be ok if the secrecy drove a wedge between them. It wasn't an admission he was proud of, but he'd learned years ago that lying to himself was frustrating and ultimately useless.

"Well?" Mary had, in typical Mary fashion, grown impatient with the silence. She never had been able to handle stillness.

"I wasn't avoiding you, I was – am – trying to complete a risk assessment for _your_ witness." Years as a US Marshal in the WitSec program had made him good at seeing through liars, it also made it easy to lie to others. Or it did when that other person wasn't Mary Shannon.

The flicker of hurt in her eyes lasted less than a second but it felt like a kick to the chest. "Well then, I'm sorry I interrupted." She turned her chair so she was facing her computer head on, her long blond hair blocking her face from his view.

He wished he could walk over to her desk, force her to meet his eyes and tell her everything, but he couldn't. He'd said 'I Love You' and she'd spent the next morning apologizing for not sharing her happy news earlier. It was time to face facts, Mary Shannon did not love him. To her they would never be more than friends. It didn't matter if she loved Raph, not really, because whoever she chose to be with, it would never be him. Another painful truth he couldn't avoid. So he turned his full attention to the paperwork spread out before him, at least with this he knew what to do.

***

The final plane touched down on Chicago a little before noon Monday morning. The security detail met them on the tarmac as planned and they whisked Kathy to their hotel to have a quick shower and breakfast in front of the morning news before she had to be at the Chicago PD office for the line-up. Everything went according to plan until the SUV rolled to a stop outside the Chicago office.

"No." Kathy shook her head and shrank back into her seat, refusing to even look out the door. "I won't go in there. H-he'll kill me."

Mary took her witness by the shoulders and forced Kathy to meet her eyes. "Listen to me. In the history of Witsec, no one who has followed the rules has ever been killed. If you testify Marvin will likely spend the rest of his life in jail. If you don't then he will walk and you will no longer be under the protection of the Us Marshall service, and in all likelihood he will kill you."

Kathy was visibly trembling by the time Mary finished. "I c-c-can't. N-not today." She buried her head in her hands, and whimpered, "please Mary.. please don't make me."

Marshall reached through the open SUV door to place a restraining hand on Mary's arm. "I'll go talk to them," he said softly, "take her around the block or something."

Mary nodded. They'd had witnesses melt down at the thought of facing criminals before, and they would again, sometimes the best thing you could do was give them a little time and space.

Marshall stood on the curb until the SUV disappeared around the corner, turned and navigated his way through the unfamiliar police station to the office of Chicago PD Detective Marston.

Detective Marston was a short man, slim and wiry – one of those men criminals underestimated. The awards lining the walls of his small, crowded office attested to the fact that this was usually the last mistake they made. He stood when Marshall entered. "Good afternoon Marshal. We're all ready for you downstairs."

Marshall smiled and shook the detective's hand. "It's a pleasure, Detective. I'm afraid it won't be possible for Ms Fraser to appear today."

The detective's eyes narrowed and he sank back into his chair. "That is not what I was told by the DOJ this morning."

"I understand that. Just as I am sure you appreciate the difficulty the DOJ will have using the testimony of a woman who has been found to be incompetent due to Post Traumatic Stress."

"Was the witness found to be incompetent due to Post Traumatic Stress?" The detective did not look amused.

Marshall hesitated for a split second, "No," he admitted, "but we have reason to believe the DOJ would prefer for this to be confirmed by a certified mental health professional before basing their entire case on her testimony."

Detective Marston muttered something under his breath, and glared at Marshall for several seconds. "Fine. Do you think you can manage to do that before I have to let the man walk due to insufficient evidence."

"We'll do our best."

The detective grunted his disbelief and gestured for Marshall to leave.

Marshall smiled to himself as he bowed out of the office and shut the door gently behind him. He was rather proud of how he'd handled the detective. He hadn't lied, not once and he'd managed to buy them at least a day to convince Kathy to stick with the program. He was thankful that this job didn't lie with him. Mary was much better than he was at convincing people to do the exact opposite of what they wanted to.

For the thousandth time Marshall had applied every ounce of his wits bending the rules to get his partner exactly what she needed. And for the thousandth time he knew he hadn't done it for her because she was his partner, or because it was what was best for their witness. For the thousandth time he'd done it for _her_. Like a pathetic puppy dog, leaping to please its master without even thinking about why until it was over. He couldn't hate her, but sometimes he really hated himself.

***


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Mary gave up trying to console Kathy within minutes. She fervently wished this were Marshall's witness, she would much rather crawl on her belly to the detective in charge of the investigation than sit, trapped and useless, with a sobbing witness. If the woman would shut up a listen to reason they could be in and out of the PD within an hour and back on the first flight to new Mexico (via LA, Boston or whichever airports Stan and Eleanor thought necessary to throw off possible tails). On the flip side, if Kathy refused to testify, an incredibly pissed off Marvin would walk and Kathy would be dead in a matter of weeks.

She had no statistics to back her up in this assumption, statistics were Marshall's job, but she knew it like she knew the sky was blue, her name was Mary or that the diamonds in her engagement ring were real. She didn't need the facts, she just knew.

They gave Marshall fifteen minutes before turning back down South Michigan Avenue. When they pulled past the large window lined cement building. He was standing on the sidewalk, casual and confident, looking for all the world like he was simply there to savor the sun on his face. The SUV pulled alongside the curb and almost before it had come to a stop Marshall was climbing in and they were on the move again.

They rode back to the hotel in near silence, the only noise coming from the distraught passenger who was still shivering and whimpering in her seat. At the hotel they settled Kathy into her room, triple checked the windows and main door, and slipped into Mary's room through the adjoining door, leaving it ajar in case they were needed.

"Well?" Mary prodded the moment they were out of earshot.

"We have until tomorrow. And we have to get a psych consult stating her PTSD hasn't rendered her incompetent."

"You really are a genius."

"You doubted?"

"Only every time you open your mouth." She shot back with a grin.

"And for that _you_ can find us a Chicago-based shrink who can do the eval."

"I take it back, you're an idiot. We're not taking my volatile, emotionally damaged witness to some local quack to have her head shrunk."

"Well we have to do something. Marston is expecting paperwork certifying her ability to act as a witness and somehow I don't think the papers Shelly filled out day before yesterday will cut it."

"Yes, but the paperwork Shelly is going to fax over today should be fine."

"What?"

"You are going to call Shelly and have her fax over documentation that will satisfy el-detective. Keep up doofus."

Marshall stared at her in silence for a few moments, trying to decide if she had truly lost her mind. "And this is my job because…?"

"Because you're the one who nearly got in her pants. Plus if I call her it will end in tears – hers not mine – and we'll never get the papers we need." She pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and thrust it into his hands, "Call. Now."

Against his better judgment Marshall pulled up his phone book and hit Shelly's number.

"Shelly Finkle."

"Hey Shelly, It's Marshall." Marshall paused for a moment, "you have a minute?" He could head the tapping a keyboard in the background.

"Sure. What's up?"

"Kathy, the witness you saw Saturday, had a breakdown this afternoon. Refused to get out of the car to do the ID –"

"You need me to talk to her."

"No actually, we just need you to fax something declaring her competency to witness."

"Just how much of a breakdown are we talking about here?" Shelly's voice lost its friendly edge.

"Well she was fine until we pulled up in front of the station and then she cried and refused to get out."

"Was it the same station she went to when she turned him in?"

"I have no idea. Why?"

"She may be having a flashback. Happens sometimes with victims when they return to a place they associate with trauma."

"So what do we do?"

"You and Mary do nothing. Keep an eye on her, keep her distracted, but don't try to force her into anything. I'll talk to your chief and see if we can get someone there tonight or early tomorrow to do an evaluation."

"Alright. Thank you."

He hung up the phone was just putting it away when it rang.

"Hi Stan."

"I just got off the phone with a Detective Marston from Chicago PD, what the hell is going on over there?"

"Just a little bump in the proverbial road, nothing that can't be smoothed over."

"You had better be right."

" I do my best. Incidentally, you should be getting a call from Shelly Finkle requesting a new psychiatric evaluation on our witness before she can testify."

"What?" Marshall could almost see Stan pressing a hand against his forehead in exasperation.

"I think it's best if we let her explain. She is the expert in matters of the mind."

Stan sighed. "You would tell me if there was something I needed to know."

"Of course Chief."

"Yep," Stan's voice betrayed his skepticism.

***

While Marshall attempted to turn his near-lies that morning into verifiable truths, Mary returned to Kathy's room and took the chair across from her Witness. "You want to tell me what's going on or are you going to make me guess?"

Kathy glared sullenly at Mary with eyes that were red rimmed from crying.

"I know you don't like me very much right now, but I am trying to keep you alive and you not telling me what's wrong is not making that an easy thing to do."

Tears welled up in Kathy's eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "H-h-he…M-Marvin…"she swallowed, twice, and continued in a small but steady voice. "He killed her."

"Who did he kill?" Mary asked, leaning slightly forward so she could look her witness full in the face. She saw shock, pain and guilt painted across the older woman's features.

"Patty. I-it was on the news."

Mary closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn't even imagine that time of pain. "When did you see this?"

"This morning."

"Did it say when it happened?"

"F-Friday morning."

Mary nodded, suddenly the breakdown from that morning seemed understated. "Was she your friend?"

Kathy nodded, "Sh-she was th-th-th-" a sob bubbling up through her throat prevented her from speaking for several moments.

"Take your time," Mary said softly.

After a few minutes Kathy collected herself enough to explain. "Patty lived next door to Marvin. She was the first friend I made after I moved here. She's the one who introduced us."

Mary nodded. "I'm so sorry." She let the room be silent for a few more moments, watching Kathy, waiting for a sign that her witness was ready for what had to come next.

When Kathy's shoulders straightened slightly and her breathing evened, Mary knew this was the time. "Kathy, you know that if you refuse to testify tomorrow, or at the trial, that Marvin will be free to hurt anyone he wants. I know you're scared, but I also know that you want to see Marvin pay for what he's done."

Kathy used both hands and the wedge of her t-shirt to wipe the tears off her face, blew her nose on an already grimy tissue she'd extracted from her pocket, and gave Mary her best attempt at a brave smile. "I want to, I just – I'm scared."

"I know." Mary patted Kathy awkwardly on the shoulder. "How about you have a nap, I'll scrounge us up some dinner in an hour or so and we can talk about tomorrow then?"

Kathy nodded and Mary slipped back into her room and closed the adjoining room's door.

Marshall was no longer in her room, she assumed he'd gone to his own room on the other side of Kathy's to shower and settle in. It was his usual routine when they had a quiet day. It suited her just fine. She was in no mood to deal with her strangely distant partner, not after the bomb Kathy had just dropped on their doorstep.

She kicked off her shoes and pulled out her mobile phone. In a few moments she was connected to Stan's voicemail. Despite her anger she managed to keep her voice bright, the yelling would come later. "Hi Stan. It's Mary. I was just wondering why no one thought it was important to let us know that our witness's next door neighbor and good friend was murdered the day before Kathy entered the program. Call me!"

They ordered pizzas and had them delivered to the front desk. When the food arrived, Mary sent Marshall down to get it and went to wake Kathy.

She found her sitting on the floor, staring blankly at the TV listening at Ron Magers and Kathy Brock as they discussed the news of the day and sank down on the floor next to her. "Anything interesting?"

"Cubs lost yesterday" Kathy informed her flatly, eyes not leaving the screen.

Mary grimaced. She'd never liked baseball, and these days thinking about baseball made her think about Raph. And since thinking about Raph meant thinking about the way she'd left him yesterday and that meant feeling both indescribably angry and incredibly guilty. _I never should have told him._

"A fifteen year old girl went missing from the high school in my neighborhood," Kathy continued in the same flat tone.

Instantly Mary forgot about the problems that plagued her personal life. She shifted so she could comfortably stare at Kathy's profile. "When?"

"Three days ago."

_The same day her friend was killed_, Mary sighed, _and the hits just keep on coming_. "Are you going to be able to testify tomorrow, help us put Marvin away?"

Kathy chewed on her bottom lip. "I c-can't. He'll kill me."

"No, he won't. But if you don't testify – if you can't make yourself enter that office tomorrow and ID him – he will walk free and he _will_ kill someone else. You _know_ he will."

"Pizza's here!" Marshall announced brightly, entering through the adjoining door from Mary's room carrying two white Giordano's Pizzeria boxes, paper plates and a six pack of coke.

Mary shot him a dirty look, annoyed at the interruption that came just as she thought she might be getting through. She forgave him a few seconds later when he passed her a plate of pizza and an ice cold pop. It was hard to be angry with another passing out free food.

They kept the conversation light as they made short work of the pizza and coke. Marshall filled would be awkward silences with tidbits of trivia that only a man like Marshall would bother to _know_ let alone _share._

"Ancient Greeks ate bread covered with oil herbs and cheese."

"Chicago-style pizza was invented by Ike Seawell, a Texas U Football star, in 1956."

"Coca-Cola was originally created in the late 19th century by a John Pemberton as a cawcaine, which is a mixture of wine and cocaine, and called Pemberton's French Wine Coca. It was renamed CocaCola in 1986 when prohibition forced Pemberton to replace wine with a non alcoholic syrup. Pemberton claimed that the newly formulated Coca-Cola cured many diseases, including morphine addiction, dyspepsia, neurasthenia, headache, and impotence."

Mary smiled and shook her head at each random bubble of knowledge, but kept her usual snide commentary to herself when she saw Kathy crack a smile and even giggle a little as Marshall delved into the wonderful world of paper manufacturing.

When they were done and Marshall reached over to take her plate and empty coke cans she mouthed thank you and received a crooked grin in return.

***

Marshall bid Mary and her witness good night at nine when Kathy began to yawn and Mary suggested they all get some sleep and headed back to his room where he put in a call to the security detail to ensure everything was alright before taking a long hot shower and changing into a pair of light grey pajama pants liberally decorated with fire trucks (a Christmas Present from his mother) and plain white t-shirt and collapsing on his bed.

He hated travelling all night. Unlike Mary who could and did sleep everywhere, Marshall couldn't turn his brain off long enough to sleep when they were transporting a witness until they were safely holed up in a hotel with a full security detail watching while he rested.

He lay for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling listening to the typical noises of an inexpensive hotel in the evening and trying not to think. It had been a long difficult two days with next to no sleep. There was a time when he looked forward to these long weekends away from Albuquerque, but that was before. In the time where Mary was his best friend and Raph was no more than her convenient fuck buddy. Back when she told him, and only him, everything that went through her mind with no filters, no awkwardness and no hesitation.

Just as he slipped into the place between sleep and waking where reality and dreams bleed together, his phone rang. He rolled to his feet with a groan and slapped the mobile phone to his ear. "Marshall."

"Marshall, It's Stan."

"Hi Stan."

"I've talked to Dr. Finkle, she thinks we need to have a complete work up done on your witness before taking her in to ID the guy."

"Ok."

"So I called the local Marshal's office. They're going to send over their staff psychologist – Dr. Madison Leery – first thing tomorrow to do the evaluation."

"Thanks, Stan." Marshall disconnected the call and stepped out into the hallway. It was late, but Mary would want to know what was in store for her witness the next day.

His soft knock at her door went unanswered, he considered that she might be asleep but dismissed the idea. Mary had always been more of a night person and it was only eleven. It was more likely that she was in with her witness. He pulled out a copy of her room key and let himself in.

The sight of Mary half sitting, half laying on the bed, face relaxed and vulnerable set off a sharp pang in his chest. She looked as if she'd fallen asleep mid motion, the .22 glock she usually kept in a holster around her ankle hung loosely from her right hand, which was dangling off the edge of the bed, almost skimming the carpet. As gently and quietly as possible Marshall lifted the gun from her hands and placed in the bedside drawer, pulled back the covers and tucked her beneath them.

She groaned once and snuggled deeply into the pillow he placed under her head, but did not wake. Against all of his best instincts Marshall allowed himself to linger at her bedside for several minutes. He watched, heart beating more loudly than it had any right to, as her brow furrowed and she squirmed in response to whatever dream was chasing its way through her mind. She grumbled something that sounded something like 'don't want to' and then her face relaxed into a half smile and she lay still again. "Goodnight Mary," he whispered, bending to place a tender kiss on her temple.

He grabbed Kathy's case file form the table on his way out - scribbling a quick note to Mary on the hotel stationary to let her know a shrink was coming that morning and that he'd taken the file- it would be hours before he would be able to sleep.

***

For the first time in weeks Mary woke to the steady, obnoxious buzz of an alarm clock and felt completely rested. She stretched her arms above her head and glanced over at the clock. They had three hours before she should head to the station for Kathy's statement. Plenty of time for a nice hot shower and some breakfast from room service once she made such Kathy was alright.

She reached under her pillow for the loaded glock she usually kept there. Her fingers skimmed over silky sheets, no gun. She frowned and lifted the pillow, no gun. She really was exhausted these days if she was forgetting her gun. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a cotton undershirt, dug her second gun out of the bottom of her bag and slipped it into its holster on her belt, thankful that she hadn't needed either gun during the night.

She gave the room a cursory scan, Kathy's folder was missing and there was a note in its place. She picked up the piece of paper and shook her head. Trust Marshall to stay up the entire night reading a case file. Doofus probably had her glock too. She knew he objected to a loaded gun under her pillow, no matter how often she assured him she didn't sleep walk or throw her pillows in her sleep. She would wake him in a while and give him hell for scaring her. For now she would check on Kathy, just to be safe.

She taped lightly on the adjoining door between her room and Kathy's. where there was no answer she slipped it open and entered the room. The bed was mussed, obviously slept in, but empty. "Kathy?" she called, scanning the room cautiously. She heard a burst of water from the shower and returned to her own room. She would check back in half an hour or so to see how Kathy was holding up. She knew the woman only agreed to return to the Chicago PD offices the night before because she was afraid to be kicked out of the program, it was possible that she'd rethought the decision during the night. Which meant it was Mary's job to ensure that she didn't back out again.

Mary was slipping off her white cotton undershirt so she could hop in the shower when she heard the shot. In under a minute she flew through the door to Kathy's room, gun at the ready. A quick sweep showed no one there, she turned to the bathroom door. The door was still closed and she could hear the noise of the shower over th rapid staccato of her heart. "Kathy?; she called out.

No answer.

"Kathy!" Mary took a step back from the door, "Kathy, open up or I'm coming in."

One solid kick was enough to splinter the cheap hotel door, forcing it inwards. The smell hit her senses before her brain could reconcile the sight before her eyes. Sticky, sweet, familiar – freshly shed blood peppered with gunpowder. Her eyes caught up quickly, practiced at observation they made quick work of the scene before them, blood mixed with brain matter spattered on the walls like a bizarre impressionist painting, window locked and shut, shower running, pooled blood diluted to a sick pink, empty eyes, her missing glock clutched in a lifeless hand. Her brain cataloged these details even as her stomach tried roiled and the edges of her vision darkened ominously.

She didn't hear Marshall enter the room, didn't even know he was there until his strong arms were pulling her backwards, away from the horror, and his strong familiar voice telling her to breathe, just breathe.

But she couldn't breathe. Breathing was impossible. There was something in her throat, clogging it, she couldn't breathe. Each hard-won breath that she managed to suck in around the lump in her throat brought a fresh wave of that sickening sweet scent. Blackness once again crowded at the edge of her vision. This time she surrendered to it and dropped into sweet oblivion.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The distinct pop of a gun discharging jolted Marshall out of dreamland. It took only a second for him to orient himself and realize the sound had not been part of his dream. He rolled to his feet, grabbed his badge and guns in a single smooth motion and slipped silently into the hallway.

The door to Kathy's room was firmly shut and there was no sign of any forced entry. He breathed a sigh of relief, but the feeling was short lived.

"Kathy, open up or I'm coming in." Even through the door Marshall could hear the concern in his partner's voice quickly followed by the sound of splintering wood.

Without stopping to think he took a step back from the door and give it a solid kick. The wood splintered and the door flew open with a bang. 23 glock gripped tightly in his hands he surveyed the room quickly and entered. He took note of the open adjoining door, and the perfectly made bed that had clearly never been slept in. He turned and caught sight of his partner standing, frozen, just inside the bathroom, gun clenched by her side. She was hyperventilating, quick sharp useless gasps for air.

He took in the sight, quickly assured himself there was nothing they could do for the witness, and allowed his instincts to take over. He holstered his gun, took Mary by the shoulders and forced her to turn away from the sight, not letting her go until she was seated on the edge of the bed. "Breathe, Mary." He murmured softly, resting one hand on her shoulder, "just breathe. There's nothing you could have done. Just keep on breathing."

He fumbled for his phone, never taking his eyes off her face. He'd never seen her quite like this, not even the night they pulled her out of the basement. Her eyes stared without seeing, he wasn't even sure if she knew he was there. Her breaths continued to come in useless gasps for oxygen until, unsurprisingly, her body slumped in a dead faint.

With one arm he gently leaned her back against the bed, the other hand still clutched his phone. His first call went to the security detail posted around the hotel. "The witness has been shot."

"Murdered?"

"No, looks like suicide."

"Want us to call the local PD?"

"Yes, and an ambulance."

"Emergent?"

"No, but my partner's pretty shaken up. I'd like her looked at."

"You got it. Anything else?"

"Not yet. Thanks."

He snapped the phone closed and sank onto the bed beside Mary. He pushed a stray chunk of hair off her neck so he could check her pulse. It was a healthy 67 beats per minute. He flipped the phone open again and dialed Stan.

"This had better be important," a half-asleep Stan growled into the phone.

"Our witness is dead."

"When? How?" Stan was awake now.

"A little after seven this morning. Gunshot to the head with a 27 Glock. Looks like suicide."

"Looks like?"

"No forced entry. Dead bolt and safety chain were locked when I broke the door down this morning. Security detail didn't report seeing anything suspicious."

"Where'd she get a gun?"

Marshall paused for a moment. He'd been too busy checking to see if Mary was alright to look closely at the weapon. He rose from the bed and returned to the bathroom. What he saw brought a sick feeling to his stomach.

"Well?"

"I think she stole it from Mary."

Stan sighed. "Let me get this straight. Mary's witness is dead in her hotel room and Mary's weapon is what killed her?"

"Yeah."

There was a moment of silence while both men contemplated the possible backlash if this news were to get out.

"You called the local PD?" Stan asked.

"And an ambulance."

"Ok. You two hang tight. I'll call over to the brass and make sure that this stays silent."

"Thanks Chief."

"Hey, why didn't Mary call?" Stan asked, almost an afterthought.

Marshall took a deep breath, considered the options, and lied. "You know how she is. Wants to solve it before the PD gets here and messes up the scene."

"Right." Marshall could almost hear the chief nodding, "OK. Call if you need anything."

Marshall slipped his phone into his pocket and turned to look at his partner. Her eyes were open and she gave him a feeble smile as she sat up on the edge of the bed. "Stan?"

Marshall nodded.

"You tell him it was my gun?"

He nodded again, watching her face carefully to gauge her reaction.

"Ok then." She stood up, a little shaky, but one hundred times more like her usual self than she had been moments before. "What do we know?"

"Not a lot. No forced entry into her room, used a stolen weapon…"

"Is there a note?"

"Didn't see one, but I didn't look for one either."

It was Mary's turn to nod. "Ok. Then I guess that's where we start."

"Gloves," Marshall reminded her.

"Right." Mary returned to her room, riffled through her bag and came up with two pairs of latex gloves.

Five minutes later Marshall let out a triumphant "Ah hah!" and held up a pad of hotel stationary.

"We've got our note?"

"Or more accurately, _I_ have _your_ note. It's addressed to you." Marshall handed the pad to her.

_Dear Inspector Sheppard,_

_I am sorry to have to do this to you. Sorry I didn't get up the courage to end this miserable existence before entering Witness Protection, but I have always been a coward. _

_I am sorry I stole your gun and that I had to leave you to clean up my mess and that I will not be able to give the testimony needed to put Marvin away. I hope you can forgive me. I am no lawyer, but I read once that a person's last words can be used as testimony in court. I hope this is the case. I have written a statement containing everything I know about Marvin and the girls he hurt. It is in the drawer next to your bed. I wanted to be sure you would be the one to find it. _

_Thank you for all the help you tried to give me. I know you did everything you could to make this event bearable, but in the end there was nothing anyone could have done._

_Kathy Fraser_

Mary handed the note back to Marshall and took a deep calming breath against the tears that wanted to fall.

Marshall skimmed it quickly before slipping it into a plastic bag for safekeeping and moving to retrieve the letter from Mary's room. He took both documents to his room and buried them at the bottom of his suitcase. They would turn the letter over to the DOJ once they'd returned to Albuquerque and discussed it with the chief. He had just returned when there was a knock from the open doorway.

"Detective Finnegan, Chicago PD, are you Deputy Miller?"

"Yes I am," Marshall said, motioning for the men to enter. "This is Deputy Sheppard. Thank you for coming so quickly."

The next half hour was a blur. The police fired off questions and combed the room for any evidence of foul play. Though US Marshalls were cream of the crop for many things, they were nowhere near as efficient at processing a crime scene as homicide detectives. For the most part they sat back and watched.

The ambulance arrived thirty minutes after the police. The paramedics came with a stretcher and a body bag, checked out both Mary and Marshall for shock before taking the body away.

"No sign of foul play," Detective Finnegan told Marshall as his team finished their sweep. "We'll have to wait for the autopsy but we're fairly certain this was a suicide." He cast a sidelong glance at Marshall, "You didn't find a note?"

Marshall shook his head.

"Alright." The detective shook hands with Marshall and then Mary before taking his leave. "I'll call you if anything comes up."

"Thank you, Detective." Mary answered for both of them.

When the police were gone she turned to Marshall, her entire being limp with exhaustion. "How soon can we get out of here?"

"I'll call Stan, you go lie down."

It was a mark of how draining the day had been that Mary didn't even try to argue. She simply flashed him a half smile and dragged herself to bed.

Marshall got a hold of Stan right away and within an hour the Chicago PD had been informed that the Marshal's were leaving and could be reached by phone with any questions and Eleanor had booked them a flight for the next day and a suite at the airport hotel for that night.

Relieved they wouldn't have to sleep another night in this hotel, with its painful associations, Marshall packed his bags and Mary's before shaking her awake.

She blinked up at him through bleary eyes. "Time to go home?"

He shook his head, "Earliest flight we could get is 6 Am tomorrow, but Eleanor booked us a room at the Quality Inn & Suites near O'Hare."

She nodded but made no move to get up.

"Which means we move now." He prodded, "Come on, I've packed your stuff and there'll be a taxi downstairs in a couple of minutes."

Mary slowly got to her feet, grabbed her bag and followed Marshall down the hall, three flights of stairs, and out into the bright Chicago afternoon.

They had stayed at the Quality Inn near O'Hare before. It was reasonably priced and convenient to the airport, train and buses, which made it perfect when transporting witnesses. It also included breakfast with make-your-own waffles (which were almost as good as flapjacks) and several kinds of fresh fruit juice.

In what felt like no time at all they were settled into a room with two queen sized beds and a phone book, arguing over what to order for dinner.

"We had pizza last night."

"And it was delicious."

"So is Chinese food."

"You only want Chinese because already gave your Pizza 101 lesson last night and you'd have nothing to say."

Marshall rolled his eyes skyward and gave up. In the nearly four years they'd been partners he had never once won one of their trivial arguments, and he certainly wouldn't tonight. "Alright, pizza it is. The usual?"

"Plus beer."

"I don't think they deliver beer."

Mary glared at him. "You have legs. And I know for a fact there's a 24 hour beer and wine store across the street."

"So I am supposed to leave you alone here with the pizza and trust that there will be some left when I return with beer. I don't think so."

Mary stuck her tongue out at him, but reached for the shoes she had discarded earlier. "I never said I wouldn't come with you. It's a dangerous neighborhood, you'll need backup."

"What about the pizza?"

"We can order it when we get back."

Marshall raised one eyebrow, "Who are you and what have you done with Mary?"

"Knock it off. I can go without food… when there's something reeeeally important I have to do."

"Like buy beer?"

She nodded, "Like buy beer. Let's go, I'm starving."

As they walked across the street to the Beer and Wine store Mary had spotted on their way into the parking lot earlier, Marshall watched with growing concern the almost manic cheerfulness of his partner. They'd been down this road before and it had not been pretty. He knew when they returned to Albuquerque there would be counseling to go through before being allowed on active duty and was selfishly glad that they had been stranded in Chicago for one more night before they would have to face the questions back home. He told himself this happiness had nothing to do with the fact that Mary had not so much as mentioned her fiancé in two days.

***

A little before ten on Thursday morning, Mary staggered up her familiar front walk, ready to fall into bed and sleep for a week. She had survived six hours of conversing with Shelly about the incident in Chicago, filled out hundreds of pages of paperwork and given an official statement for the DOJ about the letters Kathy had left. She had earned a day of rest.

Once again Raph's presence on her couch was an unpleasant surprise that almost caused her to drop her overnight bag.

He turned and smiled at her, the smile did not reach his eyes. "You said you would be home Wednesday."

"Something came up."

"What happened? Are you alright?"

Mary sighed, "It's work. I really can't talk about it."

"Can't or won't?"

"Jesus Raph! I told you what I do. You know I can't talk about it. What more do you want from me?"

"I'm not asking you to tell me the address of your latest mob boss, I asked if you are ok. As your fiance I think I have a right to at least that much."

"Well I'm not. And I can't talk about it so leave it!"

"What is the point of having a fiance if we cannot talk about your day?" Raph's voice was tight with anger, "I have more meaningful conversations with Brandi than I do with you."

"Yes," she replied sarcastically, "because telling me about the in depth, soul searching, conversations you have with Brandi is really going to help." How dare he try to bait her with a mention of Brandi?

"No, what will help is if you stop being such a coward and tell me what is going on."

Mary glowered wordlessly at him. Why couldn't be get it? _I should never have told him_.

"Fine," Raphael sighed, "If you won't tell me what's wrong can you at least explain what you've been doing with Marshall?"

"Are you serious?"

"Considering you left your engagement ring here. I think I have the right to know."

"Unbelievable," Mary shook her head. "You really don't get it, do you?"

"No. I really don't."

"I. Can. Not. Talk. About. My. Work." Mary bit off each word savagely. "Ever. No matter what."

Raph stared at her as if she'd lost her mind, which she may well have. "You can't shut me out like this Mary." He said, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. "We're going to be married, and once that happens, I'm here for good. You can't just shut me out like you do with Jinx and Brandi. That's not how this works."

"No." Mary shook his hand off and glared at him, "No that is exactly how this works between you and I."

"So you'll marry me, but you won't tell me where you were for the past three nights?"

"No. I won't tell you where I've been."

"So this is what our life is going to be like after we get married? You'll expect me to hang around here waiting for you while you're off with another man?"

"No." Mary's voice was so tense and brittle she wouldn't have been surprised if it had broken, "It won't be like that."

"Oh reeeally? Then how will it be?"

"You won't be here waiting for me or begging for an explanation because we're not going to get married. Surely you'd figured that out by now?"

She watched his face fall and felt as if she'd kicked a puppy.

As suddenly as it had come, the wave of anger that kept her upright and functioning disappeared, leaving her empty, shaky and defeated. "I'm sorry. I really wanted this to be right, but it just … isn't."

Her eyes pled with him to believe her. He returned the gaze with a dumbfounded expression.

"I-I'll go." She said with a sad half-smile, "When I get back you won't be here so…" She couldn't meet his eyes as she said it, "Goodbye Raph."

She disappeared for a few moments to gather the overnight bag she kept in her closet for emergent WITSEC-related travel and walked out the door,. It wasn't until she pulled out of the driveway that she realized she had nowhere to go. She could sleep at the office, it would hardly be the first time, but the urge to drown her sorrow in the bottle of whiskey she kept beneath her desk was one she dared not indulge. One alcoholic was more than enough for any family to bear.

She thought of Marshall, but couldn't bring herself to do that to him after what they had been through these last four days. It was bad enough he had to hold her hand – yet again – as psych debriefed her and she dealt in her own insane way with the grief and guilt that were poisoning everything, he didn't need to deal with her chaotic personal life as well. She drove aimlessly for hours.

At last, as the Probe's gas guage was flirting with empty and the sky was growing dark, she gave up trying to be noble and turned in the direction of her partner's home. His driveway was empty but she parked and got out anyways. He had to come home at some point.

She hefted her overnight bag and trudged to his doorway. She rang the bell twice, there was no answer. Not that she'd expected one with his truck missing. She leaned her head against the cool wood of his front door and allowed the tears building up in her eyes to spill down her cheeks. Sobs followed in short order, tripping over one another is a rush to be released.

Before long she was huddled on the ground, entire body shaking with sobs she was too tired to fight, overnight bag clutched to her chest like it was the only thing keeping her alive. Eventually the tears dried up, the sobs abated and she slept.

***

Marshall hit save on the last file for the day. With Mary tied up in the Kathy situation for the last twenty-four hours, and their three day absence from Albuquerque, he was hours behind on everything which meant long days at the office until he could get caught up on the mountain of unfinished paperwork. He stretched his long arms above his head and checked the time. 11:30. He groaned. So much for catching up on his sleep. Even if he could fall asleep immediately when he arrived home he would be lucky to get five hours.

Not willing to waste a second of potential rest, he turned off the computer, donned his jacket and in short order was pulling out of the WITSEC parking lot and into the nearly deserted street.

He noticed Mary's car when he was still a block away from home. He wondered how long she'd been there and why she hadn't called. Mary rarely sought him out at home, and on those memorable occasions she usually called and brought the beer.

He pulled in beside the eggplant probe and turned off the engine. Mary wasn't in her car and when he laid a hand on the hood it was cool. He wondered idly where she could have wandered off to as he fumbled for his keys. He nearly tripped over her in the half dark of his front porch.

He unlocked his front door, dropped off the few things he had brought home from the office and returned to the porch where his partner slept on like the silent dead. "Mary?" he shook her gently by the shoulder.

One at a time her eyes opened and she peered up at him. "Marshall?"

He smiled, "You were expecting someone else?"

She shook her head and took the hand he offered to help her to her feet. "Thank you." She stretched and he grimaced as her back cracked back into alignment, "What time is it?"

"A little before midnight." He tilted his head to one side, "You look beat. Need me to drive you home?"

"No." She looked down at her feet, refusing to meet his eyes, "I can't go home."

When she didn't elaborate Marshall used his left hand to tilt up her chin and looked deep into her eyes, "Just tell me what you need."

For the hundredth time that week, tears welled up in her green eyes. She tried to hide them with a depreciating smile, but as usual Marshall saw everything, even those things she wished to keep hidden. "Sleep?"

"That we can arrange." Marshall said, keeping his tone light and he motioned for her to enter his home.

He led her straight to the bedroom and handed her a pair of clean pajamas to change into. "The bathroom is through there," he pointed to his left, "and I will sleep in the living room. Call if you need anything."

"Wait," Mary's voice caught him just as he was stepping out into the hallway. "I-I don't want to be alone right now, can you stay. Just to sleep?"

Marshall nodded silently, not turning around, afraid to let her see the emotions he was certain were flickering through his eyes. "I'll just let you get changed and then I'll be back."Mary didn't respond, but he didn't expect her to. She hated vulnerability, and she rarely said thank you.

He gave her five minutes to change into the airplane pajama pants and oversized grey shirt and then returned to his room. She was still sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the clothes in her lap. She looked up at him with eyes filled with pain and guilt. He forced himself to swallow the lump that rose in his throat.

"She's dead because of me." She said, so softly he almost missed it. "I failed.

"No." In three strides he was beside her, hands jammed tightly into his jean pockets to keep from reaching out and pulling her into his arms. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have known."

"You would have known." It was a statement, not an accusation.

"No. No one could have known. You heard what Shelley said."

"She passed her psych exam with flying colors," Mary repeated tonelessly. "But that was before her best friend was killed."

"You couldn't have known." He repeated.

"I broke up with Raphael."

It took almost a full minute for the words to penetrate through his mind. His pulse kicked up a notch and he felt the tiny sliver of hope he had held on to for so long expand.

"He just couldn't understand. I guess he never did."

"Are you ok?"

She shook her head, "No. I'm not." There was a moment of silence. "But I will be"

He nodded silently, afraid that anything he might say would hurt one or both of them.

"I think we should sleep now." She said softly, getting to her feet. "You look like you're going to keel over.

He gave her a rueful half-smile and turned to his dressed to grab another set of pajamas. He found simple black flannel pants and a white shirt and changed in the living room. This time when he returned, Mary was stretched out on the left side of his bed – as if she somehow knew he always slept on the right. He flicked off the lights on his way through the door.

"I can't get it out of my head." Mary whispered into the darkness. "It just repeats and repeats over and over and every time it's exactly the same. I miss her by a few minutes."

Marshall swallowed hard to keep compassionate tears at bay.

"Every time. Every single time I break down the door and she's there."

He had no words of comfort for her. There were no words in the universe that could erase the pain she was going through. So he did the best he could, reaching out to embrace his sobbing partner, giving her his chest to absorb her tears and his arms to keep her from falling to pieces.

She fit perfectly, like he'd always known she would; her tousled blond hair tickling his chin, one pajama clad leg tangled between his own, her head tucked tightly against his chest. He closed his eyes, but he knew he would not sleep that night, wouldn't dare miss a moment of her in his arms. In the morning she would be Mary again, hard, distant and afraid to let anyone within a mile of her heart, but for now, in this perfect moment, he could hold her as tightly as he liked, breath her in, listen to their hearts beating in perfect synch. And in that perfect moment, it was almost enough.

THE END

A/N: I tried to make it end happily, I really did but I just … couldn't. Hope you enjoyed it anyways. Please drop me a line *points to review button* to let me know.


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